Silent Knight - A Villain's Rise
by BM Walker
Summary: A story about how Batman deals with one of his more "personal" conflicts. How will he deal with more loss and pain? How will he deal with feeling helpless for the first time in his crime fighting career? {Doesn't follow any specific continuity} {The character of Nightwing/Dwaine is a fictional addition of my own}
1. Chapter 1 - Goodbye Old Friend

Silent Knight

"Farewell Old Friend"

CHAPTER 1

"Get up..."

Bruce Wayne mumbled from under his mask. The iconic black, pointed-edge mask of the Batman.

"I said get up..."

Bruce's voice got stronger and louder. The agression in his words becoming more and more evident as he knelt over a motionless shell of a being.

"Listen to me! You get up now! I can't... I need you..."

Bruce's voice turned to an agressive shout before breaking into an emotional cry for help. The distress in his voice had never been more obvious as he collapsed over the top of the lifeless body that lay in front of him. The body is that of Alfred Pennyworth. He lay on his side, a little pool of red oozing from underneath him as Batman removed his mask from his head and carefully rolled Alfred onto his back. Bruce gasped as he caught sight of the gunshot wound on Alfred's left shoulder, close to where the once beating heart of his trusted butler was located. He tried to apply pressure but it was pointless. Alfred was very much dead. Not even the Batman could save him.

"I'm so sorry..." Bruce wailed. "I should never have left..."

Bruce trembled from a mixture of hysteria, fear and grief. He hadn't experienced those feelings to this degree since he lost his parents many years ago. He unclipped the long, black cape from the back of his armour and gently placed it over his fallen ally, his most loyal friend. Tears streamed down his face, and although he stood there, all six feet of him, an absolute brute of a man who had fought against the World's most dangerous, psychopathic villains and criminals, a man who had experienced pain on both a physical and mental level that no other human being could cope with, he stood there, glaring down at the silhouette of Alfred's corpse beneath his cape and had never felt like more of a child. A lost, lonely child. After all these years of having Alfred's support, care and love, it was now gone and Bruce Wayne was most definitely alone.

Bruce took a few moments to gather himself together. He picked up his mask and carried it under his arm as he surveyed the scene around him. A mass wreckage of steel and rubble surrounded, encasing Bruce on a platform within the Batcave. Bridges broken, computers crashed and equipment destroyed. Years of work undone by an unforeseen attack. An attack that confused Bruce. He asked himself who would betray him and give up his identity. Not many people know and of the people that do, Bruce could not comprehend any of them turning against him or submitting his secrets. He had been very careful about who knew, keeping the loop to the absolute minimum. Vicki Vale knows but is the only person left in Bruce's life that he can truly say he loves, he didn't want to ponder, even for a split second, that Vicki would disclose his identity to anyone. Bruce is also of the opinion that Jim Gordon knows who he is but has never actually said it directly to him, surely the Commissioner wouldn't rat him out if he didn't have confirmation himself.

The only other person who truly knows, is Nightwing AKA Dwaine Ward. Dwaine had trained and resided in the Batcave under the watchful eye of Batman. Bruce took him in when his abusive, negligent father cast him into the streets of Gotham to fend for himself at the age of thirteen. With only a couple of bucks in his pocket, he came close to giving up his soul and joining the Falcone crime family after his reputation spread as a skilled thief. Batman quickly became aware of Carmine Falcone's interest in the boy and began tracking Ward. He caught him stealing food from a small corner shop and decided to apprehend him without the armour; instead, he approached him as Bruce Wayne and took him to Wayne Manor at the suggestion of Alfred who then convinced Dwaine that there were better ways to generate money and create a life worth living than joining a mob. Dwaine then begged Bruce to teach him the code of justice so that he could carry out the same duty as the Batman and protect Gotham from the evils that dwell within the city. Bruce trusted Dwaine, now nineteen years old and carrying out solo missions. He had proven his loyalty to Bruce on numerous occasions.

Bruce was more worried about wether or not any of them were in trouble. His mind was pulsating with the notion that any of his other close friends had suffered the same fate as Alfred. In this moment of panic, he grasped an iron bar that blocked his path and forcefully pushed it away, creating a small gap in the rubble for him to squeeze through. He felt guilty about having to leave Alfred's body in the midst of all the destruction but if Vicki, Gordon or Dwaine were at risk, then he had to get himself out of the Batcave, no time to carry a body out either. There was nothing more he could do for Alfred. In his desperation to escape the wreckage, Bruce literally clawed his way to an exit.


	2. Chapter 2 - Knock Knock

"Knock, knock"

CHAPTER 2

Vicki snuggled into her bed, peacefully asleep. Her immaculate apartment in one of Gotham's many tower blocks gleaming in the moonlight. She rolled over and tucked her duvet in, under her chin. Blissfully unaware that she is being watched. On the fire escape outside of her bedroom window stood a mysterious figure in a long, brown trenchcoat. His collar pulled up, and his fedora tipped to shadow his features. He crouched down and peered in at the unknowing Vicki Vale. The man tapped his finger on the glass pane of the window, each time more forceful in power and volume. Vicki began to stir as the silence that filled her apartment was interuppted by the irritating sound the man continued to create. She tossed and turned before beginning to awake. Her eyes flickered as she woke to the sight of the figure staring back at her. She initially expected the sight of the Bat but when her eyes opened fully and the outline of the figure became clear, Vicki let out a whimper. She fell out of her bed and made a beeline for her apartment door, occupied by the sight of the man, she managed to unlock the door without turning her head, maintaining eyes on the potential actions and movements of the man, who remained still. She opened the door and turned towards the exit...

"Knock, knock!"

Vicki turned and stared into a pair of eyes that pierced a hole in her. The sharpest blue eyes she'd ever seen. They belonged to Dr. Harleen Frances Quinzel or as she now preferred; Harley Quinn.

"We've got some breaking news for ya, Vic! An exclusive scoop just for you!

Vicki took a step backwards as Harley smiled at her with the look of a troubled kid who was about to pull the wings off of a butterfly. Her signature black eye shadow highlighted the expression, a psychotic euphoria. Vicki knew enough about Harley to know when not to fight back and this was one of those moments. Bruce had previously briefed her on many of Gotham's criminal figures and had warned her specifically of Harley. Harley doesn't play well with other girls... escpecially when they have the attention of Harley's pudding, Batman's nemesis; The Joker. The figure at the window continued to look on as Harley stepped forward, her smile changing to a devlish smirk, she continued to taunt Vicki...

"Aren't ya gonna invite me in? It's late and the streets of Gotham are no place for chicks like us..."

Vicki hesitated before finally finding her voice to reluctantly invite Harley into the apartment.

"Come in, Harley... What... What can I do for you?"

"For little old me? Nothing. Howeva! I have a very special friend who would like to chat and get to know ya! I believe you've already been introduced..."

Harley motions towards the window where the figure was perched. Vicki turns to Harley...

"Who is tha..." WHACK.

Before Vicki could finish her query, Harley had prepared a baton in the brief moment she had turned to check on the man at the window. When she turned, Harley capitalized and took Vicki down. One hit.

"YAY! Harley knocks it out of the park! Mista J is gonna be so proud of me, I'll be in his dream team!"

Harley proceeded to perform a victory dance, standing over the top of the unconcious Ms. Vale. The figure at the window began to shift, smashing the window and emerging into the room. He remained silent as Harley continued to mock and humiliate, clearly overjoyed by her own contribution and performance. She catches sight of the brown trenchcoat and turns towards him...

"You! You're sucha creep! You just sit there whilst all this girl-on-girl action is going on? Make up for it or I'll tell J you were spying on me!"

Harley removed duct tape from the back of her homemade utility belt. She threw it at the figure who catches it, kneels down and proceeds to tie up Vicki. Harley moves towards the broken window, dialling a number into her cellphone...

"Any 'news' on our lead little anchor?"

The unmistakable tones of The Joker bellow from the receiver. Harley giggles before again getting into a performance zone.

"This just in! A Gotham City Tonight report! Brought to you by me, Harley Quinn, and sponsored by the one, the only, the incredible Mista J! Vicki Vale has been taken hostage! Early reports suggest that it was the greatest kidnap in the history of kidnapping!"

"Well done, Harley! Bring her back to me... Alive. How is my favourite doctor doing?"

"Oh, Mista J, I'm doing fantastic! I..."

"No, not you! The real doctor!"

"Oh, umm... well, he's not exactly the most fun person in the world to be around. He hasn't said a word since we left..."

"He's focused. I like that. Bring her back to me and Harley..."

"Yes, puddin'?"

"Don't mess this up."

"I won't..."

Joker had hung up before Harley could mutter her sentence. Although completely devoted to the Clown Prince, Harley was emotionally cut that he would not say 'bye'. The child-like frustration boiling under her surface would come out in ways that were obvious to the gangsters and mobsters who would normally take orders from the Joker's lieutenant. She had previously shot and killed two of the Joker's henchman due to one of them asking if she were available and the other attempting to aid her in getting out of a van by offering his hand. Harley feels she doesn't need help for anything although Bruce Wayne is of the opinion that she needs a serious intervention and psychiatric help.

Harley turned to the figure who had finished securing Vicki. She motioned for him to sit her upright and as quick as a flash, Harley slapped her across the face sending her back to the floor.

"You forgot one thing, Mista Moody..."

Harley looked into the shadowy abyss of the man's facial area...

"Always end on a gag."

Harley removed a red and black chequered cloth from the back of her tights and stuffed it into Vicki's mouth.

"Now the bitch can't scream."


	3. Chapter 3 - Leg and a Wing

"Leg and a Wing"

CHAPTER 3

Bruce managed to claw away from the chaos. He found himself in a cavern underneath Wayne Manor with a crack in the cliffside revealing the haunting image of Arkham Asylum off in the distance, isolated by the waters that surrounded it. Bruce walked out and realised that he was standing at a secret entrance to the Batcave created as an escape route for Nightwing, should anything ever happen to the Manor above him. The world's greatest detective was stuck on a rock, surrounded by Gotham's river and had no way of getting to dry land other than swimming. The grappling hook wouldn't be of use in the wet conditions, made worse by the fact that rain was beginning to fall. As he contemplated bearing the cold and diving into the icy waters, Nightwing's vehicle lights loomed in the distance. He had returned...

Bruce took his mask which he had been continuing to cradle under his arm and dragged out on his journey exitting the the cave and placed it on. Nightwing's hovercraft approached, a massive, high-tech piece of equipment left to him by the late Lucius Fox. It travelled on water and land and Dwaine would never let Bruce forget about how this was his vehicle and that no-one else should use it. Dwaine loved the thing and at nineteen years old, who wouldn't?

Batman stood himself up straight. He wanted to look strong as he prepared to break the news to his protegé that Alfred was indeed dead. He stood up straight and took a step forward but pain shot up his leg causing him to lose balance slightly and limp towards the hovercraft which was slowing up infront of him.

Nightwing pulled himself up and out of the pilot seat and rushed towards Batman, and although Dwaine wore a mask around his eyes and nasal area in order to protect his own identity, Bruce knew that the youngster was flustered beneath his disguise.

"Bruce, what happened?"

"Ugh, take me over to the land, we need to talk..."

"But..."

"Look, trust me, OK? Just do it."

Nightwing knew when to shut his mouth and perform the tasks set to him. He also had enough respect for Bruce Wayne to do as he was told. He helped him into the hovercraft before getting back into the pilot position and escorting Batman to safety.

"Stop here, don't get close to the house, it's not safe there anymore..."

Bruce's stark warning resonated with Nightwing and he again followed his mentor's instructions. They pulled up on a hill that provided a clear view of the city from afar, as well as the Asylum and Wayne Manor lurking in the background. Batman hobbled out of the vehicle as Nightwing followed.

"Not safe? How so?..."

"The cave is destroyed. The place was smashed up when I got back and traps were set. A proximity mine attached to one of the walls detonated as I got close to the main platform, it just crumbled down. It was shoddy work. Whoever did it wants to hurt me but keep me alive for something. I think we both know who that sounds like..."

"Joker?..."

"Typical of him."

"But then... does this mean Joker knows that you're Bruce Wayne? And where's Alfred?"

Nightwing breathlessly asked questions as though he were suffering from information overload. Batman tipped his head towards the ground as Alfred's name was mentioned and Nightwing immediately realised the fate of the butler and choked back from crying in front of the Bat.

"Bruce, I'm so sorry..."

Batman didn't want to dwell or think on Alfred's death for one second and so refused to acknowledge Dwaine's consoling.

"I'm afraid it does mean Joker knows who I am. It also means that people associated with me are in grave danger. I need to get to Vicki and Gordon and..."

Nightwing flinched at the sound of Gordon's name. Batman stopped in his tracks as he picked up on this factor...

"Bruce... Jim Gordon is dead."

That sentence hit Batman like a ton of bricks. Another ally gone. He mustered up enough strength in his voice to retort...

"How?"

"Riddler."

"Edward?"

"He was found beaten and battered in a side street close to Gotham General. He had a question mark burned onto his chest as though he had been branded by Nigma. It wasn't the usual Riddler assault. Edward's not exactly the toughest cookie in Gotham, and leaving him to die next to a hospital is really confusing..."

Bruce was attempting to swallow the information he was hearing. His grief was beginning to out weigh his anger and he really just wanted to sit and take in what he had learnt but there was no time for it. Even standing on that hill, he felt like he was placing Dwaine in danger and so he found the strength again to devise a plan.

"If it leaves you confused, then it's classic Riddler. I... I need to find Vicki and get her out of the city..."

"Bruce, I don't know how to say this..."

"What?"

"Vicki's not home... She's missing."

Batman's vision began to swirl as his head seared in pain. He collapsed to the ground. Passed out. Nightwing rushed to his mentor's side, attempting to bring Bruce back from the brink...


	4. Chapter 4 - An Exclusive Interview

"An Exclusive Interview"

CHAPTER 4

"I can't begin to even describe the carnage unleashed here by the criminal known as The Joker... there are bodies everywhere of men, women and children with no clear indication of reason or motive... I repeat, this is Vicki Vale, on the scene at the Gotham Gazzette Media Centre. The Joker has just blown up a section of..."

Vicki Vale sat strapped to a chair, gagged and bound, in a small, murky room, a television set directly in front of her, beaming light back in her face and amplifying the darkness that lay behind it. The TV displayed one of her more dated reports...

"Do you remember this?"

The Joker emerged from the shadows that engulfed the room beyond the screen. The lanky, demonic, "Clown Prince of Crime" in all his glory. He dragged a chair behind him, placing it between Vicki and the TV and took his place.

"Do you remember the first time you felt genuine fear?"

Joker whipped a swiss army knife out from his pocket and pointed the jagged edge of the blade at Vicki's throat. Her heart raced at the thought of what might happen next.

"...And I don't mean fear, like a, hey, Mom, I-think-there's-a-monster-under-my-bed, type fear. I mean, genuine _fear_? When your mind can't cope with the prospect of what may or may not unfold?

Vicki trembled as The Joker leaned in ever closer, the edge of his blade gaining momentum at an alarming rate as he swung his arms around in his usual eccentric manner. His knife was at serious risk of puncturing Vicki's neck.

"...You see... look at me... I don't. I don't remember that feeling... of fear or anxiety that you are living at this very second, at this very moment... "fear" is a disease of which I am immune... the rest of the world? It's infected... infected by _fear..._"

The Joker put the knife back in his pocket and grabbed Vicki by the chin, forcing her to stare directly at him.

"...and like any other infection, it has it's symptoms, it's traits. People in this world live their lives with ideas of who they want to be, and they _fear_ failure... They live in _fear_ of the unkown, of what lies around the corner...and all people, all of them, are greedy, and they _fear_ loss... of anything... whilst I do not. I do not fear the unkown, I do not fear failure and I have _nothing_ to lose. This disease is a problem and I am the solution..."

"Mmmmf...Mfffmmm..."

"What?"

The Joker removed the gag from Vicki in a swift, violent motion.

"...You're not the solution, you're the damn carrier..."

The Joker looked back at Vicki, as though stunned by her outburst. A brash quip that he hadn't foresaw. He looked at her for a brief moment before bursting into maniacal laughter.

"AHEEHEEEHEEE-HOOOO-HAHAHA... It's... It's funny 'cause it's true... Although maybe you should leave the jokes to me."

"You're a psychopath."

"I prefer to think of myself as a philosopher. I have the balls to ask the tough questions that no-one else dares to."

"What are you talking about?"

"I ask the questions of Batman that no-one else does. Where did he learn all of his neat, little tricks? What's his angle? What will it take to break him?... After years of painstaking research and "studying", I am no closer to an answer than you are to freedom."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Well, my dear, I have a new theory. Maybe, instead of asking the same questions, I should ask some new ones... I still want to know "how far do I have to go to break the Bat?" but I'm also interested, now, in "how far do I have to go to break Bruce Wayne?""

A look of shock and stark realisation crossed Vicki's face. The Joker continued...

"...oh yes... I know. I know everything. And whilst Batman might not show symptoms of _fear_; Bruce Wayne definitely does. He fears the unkown, he fears failure and he has _everything_ to lose."

"And you've taken me hostage to prove it?"

"I wouldn't say you were a hostage, more of a... patient..."

Vicki was confused by this comment, her emotions were running wild. Joker stood up and kicked his chair over. It slammed to the concrete floor and the impact echoed through-out the area.

"Well, Miss Vale, I must take my leave..."

"Look, whatever you're planning..."

"PLANS?!"

Joker screeched at Vicki. The word seemed to trigger the true nature of the clown. His eyes glazed over with rage and he stood over Vicki, reached into his pocket and revealed his knife again. He tipped Vicki back on her chair and held the blade across her throat yet again. Vicki would have to remain perfectly still and submit to Joker, for even a slight bump or loss of balance and the chair could tip forward, carrying her gullet-first into the edge of the weapon. The Joker continued...

"Have you been listening to anything I have just told you? Plans are symptoms of _fear_, you must know this... I bet... I bet you have planned out in your head exactly what's going to happen. You will have a plan in that noggin' that you'll sit here, all cosy, waiting for when Batman, sorry, Bruce bursts in through the doors to this place, and you'll do just enough to escape while he distracts or pre-occupies us... I bet Bruce and his little Wing pal are working on a plan right now... The only reason you're making plans is because you are scared... I have no plans because I am NOT scared..."

The Joker backed off and released Vicki who's chair legs clunked to the ground.

"Now, I hate to put a spanner in your "plans" but I'm fresh out of punch lines, so I'll guess I'll just have to take a stab in the dark..."

The Joker flicked his knife up in his fingers and plunged it straight into Vicki's torso, piercing her body and sliding through her rib cage. Vicki screamed in agony as he slowly forced the blade deeper until the handle met flesh. Blood began to spew from the wound.

"...tonight, there are no rules and there are no plans. There is only me... and the Bat."

Vicki, stricken by shock and pain, could do nothing but watch as The Joker released his grip of the blade handle, turned and blended back into the shadows beyond the television set. She shot another look down towards her stomach, each motion bringing with it a new level of agony and adrenaline. For a night-off work, Vicki had sure experienced some grueling hours.

The Joker exited the room and slammed the door behind him. He maintained possession of the door lever and looked to the ground, his mixture of insanity and inner conflict causing him to breathe heavily. He shook himself and slapped his own face a couple of times. Beside the door stood the man in the long brown trenchcoat. Joker looked to him and flashed that twisted smile of his. The figure remained silent as Joker finally let go of the lever.

"She's bleeding... try to keep her alive..."

The figure gently grasped his fedora and removed it from his head, slowly placing it down on a table situated beside him. He then flicked down the collar of his coat, revealing a heavily bandaged face, features covered. He opened his mouth and unleashed a raspy voice, barely audible.

"For how long?"

"As long as it takes..." Replied Joker. "As long as it takes for her to outlive her use."

The figure nodded and The Joker left the scene. The bandaged man then picked up a satchel of equipment, opened the door and joined Vicki, slamming it shut again with equal ferocity to The Jokers earlier action.


	5. Chapter 5 - Safe House

"Safe House"

CHAPTER 5

Bruce sat upright in a luxuriously large chair. Surrounded by bookshelfs and the finest art and antiques that Gotham City had to offer. His eyes remained closed as Nightwing entered the room equipped with what looked to be herbal remedies. He placed a bucket down beside Batman and removed his helmet. Bruce was out. Cold.

Dwaine gave a sigh and then approached a desk behind him. He opened the drawer underneath the surface and then opened a compartment concealed further within. He removed a small earpiece and made it operational. He took a matching peice of tech, wired it up with Bruce's helmet and placed it on top of the desk in order for him to be greeted by the image of the shell of the Bat head whenever he woke. He then wrote a note:-

_Bruce,_

_I hope you understand that I couldn't wait around for you to wake. I decided to take the inititave and go look for Riddler._

I synced our communications but I'm expecting my channel to be busy from here on out. I have some help in the form of someone very special. Someone who's time has come to act. If you can't reach me on the comms, I have placed a tracer and radar hub in the drawer below this desk.

Also, if you're wondering where you are, this is my emergency locale. "The Night Cave"; if you like. My Mother left this place to me in her will. I never told you 'cause I've never wanted to talk about it. I didn't even want to come back.

_But I guess desperate times call for desperate measures. Let's hope all those years of training finally pay off._

_NW_

Nightwing closed the note over and placed it up against the Bat-mask. He marked it BW. He then placed his fingers to his ear and began to whisper...

"This is Nightwing... About that offer..."


	6. Chapter 6 - RSVP

"RSVP"

CHAPTER 6

"Guerrero! Guerrero! I've got something!"

"What is it, kid?"

The bullish aura of Albert Guerrero stood amidst the turmoil of the Gotham City Police Department. Albert had just inherited the role vacated by one James Gordon. An entity of which Bruce Wayne was extremely unfamiliar, new Commissioner Guerrero expressed a more ruthless approach towards his line of work. Like Jim Gordon, Albert didn't sleep very often. He didn't spend a lot of time with his family and his work consumed him. And while Gordon would face a constant inner struggle over this matter, Guerrero seemed to thrive on it.

"It's some sort of video player. It was laying on the front steps of Gotham General, no assailants caught."

The young cop, Alex Dalton, was eager to impress his new superior like the countless others scrambling around the station.

"Can you hook it up to the big screens in here?"

"Sure can, Sir!"

"Then get to it..."

Albert stood firm and still whilst the motions of the Gotham Police Service seemed to blur around him, every member working franetically to find that one piece of information, that one clue that would lead them to solving the mysteries of James Gordon's death. Guerrero knew that many of his force were there for the wrong reasons. They wanted to 'appear' as cops; play the hero, as it were. But for every worker feulled by vanity, he also knew that there were loyal, trusted officers within the ranks. Hellbent on avenging their fallen commissioner. A complete fifty-fifty split. A house divided yet united in their targets.

"Got it!"

"Full volume, kid!"

_Bzzt!_ The screens around the department lit up with a brief static before a familiar voice began to emit from the speakers...

"Well, well, well... Isn't this delightful?"

The screens showed a handheld video camera on the ground, laying on it's side. The view was rough and dark. The camera began to rumble before ascending and turning to again reveal the piercing blue eyes of Harley Quinn.

"Hey! Boys in blue, Can ya hear me?"

The GCPD's chaotic environment came to a stand still as Guerrero took a deep breath through his nose.

"By now, you probably found poor Commissioner Gordon's body, tut-tut-tut, such a shame. I'd like to say a couple of words in his honour..."

Harley gave a cough and cleared her throat...

"HA! HA!"

A silent rage filled many within the room. Harley continued...

"Now that that's outta the way, let's move on to more pressing issues and look to the future. Like tonight for example! Tonight, in the words of my associate, my puddin', my Mr. J, everything changes. Gotham will never be the same after the party we're gonna throw! Unfortunately, we're fresh out of invites so we have to respectfully request that you do not show up and crash the joint! No-one likes a party pooper! If you interfere with the celebrations, what happened to your precious Commish will be nothin' compared to what we will unleash on this City!... Our party will run into the early hours. If the 'blue boys' find us or try to mingle with our guests or our VIP's before 6a.m., if we even hear a zip from you guys, we'll be forced to start an unscheduled fireworks display around Gotham's many attractions and sites! Thank you for your time, sit back, relax and enjoy the show!"

_Bzzt!_

"So... they demand that we do nothing?"

Alex's words stung Guerrero's ears. What a way to kick off a promotion...

"Kid... Get me the Mayor."


	7. Chapter 7 - Dance in the Dark

"Dance in the Dark"

CHAPTER 7

"Alright, I'm here. What do you propose I do now?"

Nightwing sat perched atop one of Gotham's many gothic gargoyles on the side of one of the city's many tall structures. The voice in his ear began to respond...

"Edward Nigma, thirty-four years old, known criminal and gang leader on Gotham's south side. Physical threat level; minimal. I suggest you bust in and kick his ass."

"That's my kind of plan. Listen, Barbara, we all have cool code names and aliases. What should I call you?"

"Right now, I don't care."

"How about Barbie? Can I call you Barbie?"

"..."

"That's a no, isn't it?"

"Just get on with it."

"Okay, getting on with it..."

Nightwing dived from the Gargoyle's peak, descending towards ground level at high velocity, the coloured lights from the surrounding buildings creating a blurry tunnel for him to follow downwards. Metres from impact, Nightwing unhooked his mini-chute and brought himself to a controlled stop. Right infront of a little club named "Q's" which was lit by green spotlights. Classic Riddler. Not one to be very subtle.

Nightwing wasn't in the mood for sneaking around. Part of him was looking for a fight. He stormed towards the front door of the club and shot through, entering a narrow corridor that would lead to the main hall of the club itself. It was unusually quiet. The music was suspicouslly low in volume and Dwaine could only identify one or two shadows beyond the end of the corridor. His fast paced march begun to slow up as he considered the fact that he could be headed straight towards a trap. He came to a halt just before the main hall doors and peered through the circular windows that were a part of them. On the other side stood two goons, caked in clown make-up, holding a machine gun each. A further three guys stood along the walkway that looked down upon the club's dancefloor. Those three were also covered in clown paint but were unarmed in terms of firearms. Instead, they held batons and melee instruments.

The armed grunts were in the middle of conversing...

"So, why are we here again?"

"To make sure Batman doesn't get in and that the Riddler doesn't get out."

"Yeah, but... why?"

"I don't know! Harley gave the orders!"

"Look... I don't want to question the boss, but did he seem... _different_... to you, tonight?"

"I'm glad I'm not the only one who noticed."

"He was acting crazy!... more so..."

"Big Jimmy was telling me that the boss got some vital information from that bandaged man. Something about the Batman. But whatever it was seems to have pushed him completely over the edge."

"Yeah, he was rambling and muttering..."

"Don't let the other guys know, but when they dragged Commissioner Gordon into the joint, Joker just went nuts! He just kept punching him!"

Nightwing put his fingers to his ear again, whispering...

"Barbara, I need you to do a scan of the area. Riddler's here, but I'm not sure if it's him I should be after..."

"I've already scanned. Nigma's in the VIP backroom. Alone."

"Any news on Joker yet?"

"Not a peep..."

"If you hear anything about a bandaged man, get straight back to me."

"Will do."

As soon as Barbara had finished her words, Nightwing lunged through the club doors, firing his grapple hook at the ankle of one of the armed goons. Up-ending him. Before the other gun handler could react, Nightwing had struck with his dual batons, dropping the grunt to the floor. Dwaine stood in the centre of the dancefloor and looked up at the walkway as the remaining three goons hurled obscenity's at him. Nightwing placed his batons back in their holsters and reached for his shurikens. In one swift motion, he dispatched two projectiles and dropped his foes that were either side of him, leaving one unfortunate soul directly infront and above him.

"Run."

The goon dropped his baseball bat and headed straight for the backdoor. Nightwing snarled as he observed his handy work. He then made his way up the walkway, eyes firmly set on the VIP room...


	8. Chapter 8 - Clowns in the Mist

"Clowns in the Mist"

CHAPTER 8

Bruce looked around. A misty fog surrounded him. He could see nothing as though he were trapped within some sort of cloud. All of a sudden, the sound of Alfred's voice echoed in his head...

"Master Bruce. You must prioritise."

Bruce spun around but could not find or pinpoint a location from where the voice was coming from. He wandered hopelessly into the fog. Alfred's voice continued on...

"If you must rest in order to recover, then so be it..."

"But they killed you... killed Gordon... Vicki... I don't even know... How can I rest while they're out there?"

"Because if you do not rest, if you do not recover, then you will not be capable of victory."

Bruce roared back.

"I am capable!"

"No! You're not... not yet... learn from your past."

Bruce found himself before two gravestones. The graves of his parents, Thomas and Martha, lay at his feet.

"Why am I here?"

The ground began to rumble violently, like a mini-earthquake. A third gravestone shot up from the ground beside the memorials of his parents. This one belonged to Alfred. Bruce hung his head, unable to face the names engraved on the stones before him...

"Alfred... Why am I here?"

"If you cannot face us, how can you face them?"

Bruce turned his head. In the distance, he could see the outlines of a man and a woman, walking towards him through the fog. Eventually, it became clear that they were the outlines of Jim Gordon and Vicki Vale. Bruce hung his head again and began to mutter under his breath...

"I do not fear death."

"But you do _fear_."

The last word in Alfred's sentence was transformed into another voice. Again, the unmistakable tones of the Joker. Bruce lifted his head as the ground beneath him began to shake, this time even more violentlly than the first. From beneath the graves shot up a white-gloved hand followed by an arm coated in a purple hand held the graves in an open palm before closing into a fist and turning the memorials to dust. Bruce panicked and turned to Gordon and Vicki. He rushed towards them before a second hand erupted from the surface, elevating them into the air and consuming them both. Bruce had nowhere to go... the mist that surrounded him slowly morphed into a bloody red rain as he looked to the sky to be confronted by the psychotic glare of the Joker...

"You _fear_ me! HAAA-HEEEEE HOO-HOO!"

Bruce flinched and jerked up from out of his slumber. Greeted, as planned, by his mask and the note. He collapsed from the large chair and clutched at the bucket Nightwing had provided, throwing up enough vomit to fill it. Not the greatest way to rise back...

Bruce ascended to the desk. He glanced the note and pulled his mask over his head. He leaned over a window that had a pretty decent view of downtown Gotham. All the tall architecture in all it's glory. When suddenly, an orange glow burst from one of the absolute tallest...


	9. Chapter 9 - Riddles and Dimes

"Riddles and Dimes"

CHAPTER 9

Dwaine kicked into the VIP backroom. In the middle of the floor was a roundtable with one man seated; Edward Nigma. Edward didn't flinch. He didn't even look up as he sipped from a bottle of beer...

"You took your time..."

"And you're out of it..."

Riddler's head raised upon hearing Dwaine's voice. It was not the voice he had been expecting...

"The kid? ... Oh, man, the Clown isn't going to like this..."

"What's he up to, Riddler?"

"If a man has nothing to lose, how can he not win?"

Dwaine still wasn't in the mood for games. He slammed his fist onto the table in front of Edward.

"Seriously? You're still speaking in riddles and verses despite the fact that the Joker's moron brigade were trapping you in here? I just saved your ass Nigma, now help me out!"

"Saved me? Kid, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into..."

"Then will you at least answer my questions?"

"It can't hurt to ask them... so ask away..."

Riddler kicked a chair out from under the table at the side opposing him. Dwaine checked the legs of the furniture for any weaponry before hesitantly taking his seat. Riddler continued to drink from his bottle as Dwaine fired his first enquiry...

"Tonight, Commissioner James Gordon was found dead in a side alley, two blocks from Gotham General. His cause of death to be determined but from my guess, it was an old fashioned, hand-to-hand beat down. What I want to know is why your insignia was branded across his chest?"

"Exactly."

"What?"

"The question is the answer. You want to know _why? _The truth is, I had nothing to do with it. I actually _liked_ Gordon. He was much more intelligent and witty than Dent or Guerrero ever will be. Why would I destroy such a source of intellectual brilliance?"

"Because that's you all over, isn't it? That's why you wanted to kill Batman, to prove that you were more clever than he is."

"And look how that turned out for me. I almost wound up in Arkham. If it weren't for my psychological prowess, I probably would be cooked up in a cell wearing a straight-jacket. After the last time Batman bested me, I decided to start clean and get back to what I do best... problem solving."

"And how's that working for you?"

"Well, working at Wayne Enterprises has it's advantages..."

"You work for Bruce Wayne?"

"I'm a business consultant. Yes."

"Edward, I need to know. Where is Joker? Or Quinn? Or have you heard anything about a 'bandaged man'?

The Riddler shrugged his shoulders and kicked his feet up.

"If I had to guess, Joker framed me as Gordon's killer in order to stall you from hunting him."

Dwaine had previously considered this theory. Nigma continued to divulge his opinion...

"I know that the goons around here were expecting the arrival of Batman. Joker himself told them that Batman would be breaking in so when I looked up and saw you, I figured that there had been a twist of fate... So where's the Bat?"

"He's around..."

"For your sake, I sure hope so. Otherwise, we all might as well die right now. Joker's not messing about."

**BLAM!**

The window behind the Riddler flooded with a fiery light. Off in the distance, Wayne Tower had just experienced some sort of explosion. The same orange glow that Bruce had just witnessed a couple of miles away...


End file.
